


Flustered and Fucked

by rhysands_highlady



Series: The Lucky Ones Series [4]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:20:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22323976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhysands_highlady/pseuds/rhysands_highlady
Summary: Set between parts 8 & 9 of The Lucky Ones, our kids go to the club and BOY are they fucking horny
Relationships: Feyre Archeron/Lucien Vanserra, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand/Lucien Vanserra, Rhysand/Lucien Vanserra
Series: The Lucky Ones Series [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1206774
Kudos: 26





	Flustered and Fucked

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: mentions of the Tool, sexual tension you could cut with a knife, rhycien are LITERALLY too soft for me to handle (i cried writing one bit), drunk girls in the club bathroom, pinky-linking/hand-holding, mate feyre really just wants to get laid, rhys and lucien get a lil sexy

Lucien Vanserra was frustrated. More frustrated than he’d care to admit.

His prospective lover was dancing with Morrigan as his lover brushed hair back from his face. And, of course, Feyre _had_ to be wearing that snug-fitting grey dress with the low back and neckline that Lucien had been subtly eyeing all evening.

“If only Mor wasn’t hogging her,” Rhys whispered in his ear. His hand in Lucien’s hair was a soothing weight. Lucien grunted in affirmation. Rhys smiled against his ear before using his free hand to turn Lucien’s face towards him.

Their lips met lazily. They had all the time they wanted, and Lucien desperately needed to distract himself from Feyre Archeron.

Lucien straddled Rhys’s lap and Rhys brought a hand down to rest on his ass, the other hand still in Lucien’s hair. Lucien draped his arms around Rhys’s neck, his fingers grazing along Rhys’s hairline.

He kissed the corner of Rhys’s mouth and began a trail along his jaw.

“Marking me again, are you?”

Lucien grasped a handful of Rhys’s hair and tugged his head back. He stared down at Rhys’s grinning face. “Is that a complaint?”

“Of course not, my love,” Rhys said smoothly. Lucien hummed, one brow raised, and released his hair. Rhys surged forward to peck his lips before leaning back against the cushions in the booth.

Lucien didn’t bother to hide his small, soft smile as he returned his lips to Rhys’s jaw. He moved his mouth down to Rhys’s neck and sucked gently.

Rhys squeezed Lucien’s ass as he tilted his head to the side a bit. Rhys moved his other hand to slide under Lucien’s shirt, and Lucien dug in his teeth slightly.

“ _Lucien_ ,” Rhys groaned, his hands tightening. Lucien swirled his tongue over the hurt and moved farther down Rhys’s neck.

Lucien’s teeth were grazing Rhys’s collarbone when Rhys said his name again, only this time it sounded like he was trying to get his attention. Lucien hummed, his fingers toying with the top button on Rhys’s shirt.

“She’s watching us,” Rhys murmured, his hand stroking Lucien’s back idly. Lucien paused.

“Feyre?” he asked against Rhys’s skin. Rhys’s affirmative hum vibrated through his body. He popped open the button he’d been toying with. “How does she look?”

Lucien ghosted his lips across Rhys’s chest, pushing open his shirt with his hands.

“Honestly? She looks turned on,” Rhys said, a hand tangling in Lucien’s hair. Lucien’s brows flicked up. “She’s all flushed from dancing and she’s gripping her martini glass like it’s the only thing keeping her on this planet.”

Lucien smirked and popped open another button before he licked a stripe up Rhys’s neck and tugged on his earlobe.

“That was kinda gross,” Rhys said, his fingers teasing Lucien’s waistband.

“Did she like it?”

A pause.

“Yes.”

———

Feyre Archeron was fucked. Utterly fucked.

Rhys and Lucien were— _Fuck_. A bead of sweat ran down her back and she swallowed. They kept talking to each other, but Feyre couldn’t hear what they were saying. She wished she could. Desperately.

Hopefully, Rhys hadn’t spotted her. She’d die of embarrassment if he caught her getting all flustered by the sight of them making out.

Because she was flustered and fucked and, damn, she really wanted… them. That was it really. Too bad she was stuck with Tamlin and her stupid conscience. One such conscience that allowed her to feed damning evidence to Azriel but not get laid.

Cauldron boil her, Rhys was pretty much eye-fucking Lucien as they looked at each other, both speaking words she couldn’t hear. Their faces were close enough that their lips nearly touched as they spoke.

Lucien took Rhys’s lip between his teeth and Feyre’s breath hitched, heat pooling in her core. Especially as Rhys’s eyes flicked to hers…and lingered. Well, she’d been spotted.

She really wished she still had something left in her glass as Rhys’s mouth curved into a smirk and Rhys muttered something to Lucien, whose lips were on Rhys’s cheek.

Feyre couldn’t brace herself for the look Lucien gave her over his shoulder then. Her stomach fluttered and she felt more heat rising to her cheeks.

Lucien opened his mouth and began to lift a hand, but Feyre turned on her heel and walked towards the bathroom.

The bathroom was full of girls taking selfies, girls crying while other girls comfort them, two girls that may or may not have been making out against one wall.

Feyre made her way to the sink, trying not to break down in her frustration.

“Hey, girl, you okay?” one of the girls piped up. Feyre frowned, the weight of her unhappiness finally hitting her. She shook her head, and probably four girls swarmed her and started speaking kindly to her.

“Oh no, no, sweets, what’s wrong?” “Can I help?” “I’ll get you some water.”

“My boyfriend,” she began, earning her a bunch of ‘no’s from the collective group, “is a total asshole.”

“Typical,” one girl said, and Feyre huffed a laugh despite her heart aching.

“And there’s these two guys,” Feyre continued, to which she got eyebrow wiggles and ‘oohs’, “And, fuck, they’re the nicest guys I know, but I’m too scared of said shit boyfriend to break up with him.”

“Girl, that sucks,” the girl to her right said. “If you wanna break up with him, I’m totally down to come with you. You here with him tonight?”

“No, with… the guys,” Feyre said. The girls wiggled their eyebrows again and she added, “And our other friends.” The girls looked disappointed. “Boyfriend is probably doing coke at some rich guy’s house.”

The girl to her left scrunched up her nose. “Boyfriend doesn’t matter right now, okay?” she said, and Feyre nodded. “I’m Clara, and that’s Margaret,” she pointed to the girl on Feyre’s right. “But call her Maggie unless you want to get slapped.”

“Good to know.”

“So these boys,” Maggie started, “do they have names?” Feyre nodded a little hazily. She hadn’t realised how drunk she was.

“Mmhmm, Rhys and Lucien.” Maggie and Clara shared a look. “They’re so much hotter than my boyfriend, I gotta say.”

“Rhys as in Rhys Spera?” Clara asked. Feyre nodded again, twisting a piece of her hair around her finger. “And Lucien Vanserra.”

“Yep, Tamlin fucking _hates_ them,” Feyre said, nodding with a frown.

“ _Tamlin_ is your boyfriend?” Maggie blurted and Clara shot her a look.

“Sadly.”

“Wait, so do you know Morrigan too?” Clara asked, thankfully directing the conversation away from Tamlin. 

“Of course,” Feyre said. “I was just dancing with her earlier.”

“You’re kidding! That’s so cool,” Clara said, tapping her shoulder excitedly. Feyre smiled and nodded. Then she sighed and covered her face with her hands.

“I really really like them,” Feyre mumbled. Then she froze, realising she’d just admitted it aloud for the first time.

“Why aren’t you with them now?” Maggie said, playing with a piece of her hair.

Feyre flushed as she remembered why she’d stormed in here in the first place. “They caught me watching them make out,” Feyre whispered, and Maggie and Clara squealed. “And then, well, then it looked like Lucien was going to beckon me over and I—“ Feyre stopped herself, her cheeks flaming. She scrunched her face.

“I should probably get going,” Feyre said, running a hand through her hair. “What time is it?”

Clara checked her phone. “Almost half past one.”

“Right, I’ve gotta go. It was nice to meet you.”

“Hey, wait,” Maggie said. “Let me give you my number so we can talk later.” Feyre smiled a bit.

“Okay, what is it?”

After exchanging numbers with both Maggie and Clara, Feyre found her way out of the bathroom. She kept her breathing steady as she walked, albeit wobbly, back to their booth.

“There you are,” Lucien said as Feyre reached the booth. She could’ve sworn he looked nervous for a moment but then it was gone. “We were worried we’d… scared you off.”

Feyre shook her head as she slid into the booth, though she kept her distance from them, afraid if she moved too close, she’d do something impulsive. She saw the moment Lucien noticed, his eyes flicking to the space between them before he looked down at his lap, his arms wrapped around himself. Her hand twitched like she wanted to reach out to him, which she did, but she couldn’t.

“We hope you know that we’d never—“

Feyre cut Rhys off, “I know.” It came out harsher than she meant it to, and Rhys winced slightly, looking between her and Lucien, his arm draped over Lucien’s shoulder.

“We understand you’re with… him,” Rhys said, and there was something pained in his tone. It made Feyre’s heart hurt. “But we… care about you… very much.”

Feyre felt tears welling up in her eyes and she looked down, wringing her hands. When she looked back up, Rhys was stroking Lucien’s hair and pressing a kiss to his temple while murmuring something Feyre couldn’t hear.

Lucien rested his head on Rhys’s shoulder, his gaze meeting hers again. He furrowed his brows in concern at whatever he saw on her face.

“Are you okay?” Lucien said softly. She barely heard him over the pounding music, but she shrugged. He frowned and something like longing entered his eye.

She didn’t know how long they stared at each other, but eventually, Rhys spoke.

“Are either of you tired?”

Feyre nodded, breaking Lucien’s gaze. “Can we go home?”

Rhys nodded in reply. “I’ll go find the others.” Then he slipped from the booth in search of their friends.

Feyre’s eyes fell upon Lucien’s again. They didn’t say anything, but Lucien’s hand slid across the cushions towards her. She glanced down at it then back up at him before she linked her pinky with his. Lucien closed his eyes and let out a breath like he was relieved as he leaned his head back against the booth.

She yawned and Lucien must’ve heard her because his head lolled towards her.

“Rhys will carry you if you don’t wanna walk,” he said. Feyre nodded and Lucien tentatively wrapped his hand around hers. She didn’t stop him. She didn’t have the energy to do anything she didn’t want to do. She squeezed his hand and he squeezed hers back.

Rhys returned with their friends. Mor was propped against a sober Cassian with Azriel looking completely sober, but Feyre knew he’d had quite a bit to drink. Cassian was driving.

Feyre asked Rhys to carry her and he practically bolted to her side before sliding an arm under her knees and around her back. She wrapped her arms around his neck and curled into him, realising she felt safer in his arms than she ever had with Tamlin. The thought had her burying her face in Rhys’s shoulder to hide her tears.

Rhys’s arms tightened around her and she breathed in his scent.

“Hey, why don’t _I_ get to be carried,” Mor whined, presumably to Cassian, who replied, though it was unintelligible to Feyre.

“Let’s go,” Rhys said, the vibrations reverberating through her body.

——

Lucien was a warm presence at Rhys’s side as they walked to the car. Mor was singing loudly and poorly and Cassian was trying to get her to quiet down as Azriel watched with a grin on his face.

Feyre shifted in his arms, her feet unintentionally nudging Lucien. Rhys watched his eye snap to her.

“Hey, Rhys?” she mumbled.

“Yes, darling?”

“I care about you and Lucien very much too,” Feyre said softly. The words tugged at Rhys’s heart.

Rhys glanced at Lucien to see him looking at Feyre like she was the most precious woman in the world, which she was, to both of them. Rhys pressed a gentle kiss to her hair and her arms tightened around his neck. He squeezed his eyes shut for just a moment to keep himself from losing it.

Lucien touched his shoulder and the ache in his heart ebbed just a bit.

“Goodnight,” Feyre whispered.


End file.
